


the night was full of terrors

by Mars_and_Moon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Based on 1x09 of WandaVision, Dean Winchester Is Going Through Some Shit, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Technically It's Character Death, but he's already dead, honestly this hurt to write, sorta kinda canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-21
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_and_Moon/pseuds/Mars_and_Moon
Summary: What is grief, if not love persevering?or;Dean gets to say goodbye in the worse way.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	the night was full of terrors

**Author's Note:**

> stole some dialogue from wandavision. had a breakdown. hope you enjoy 1.5k of dean suffering.

Dean is fretting, walking around picking up pieces of lint off the damn throw pillows and catching himself before he can longingly stare at the pale walls. It's all he can do to stop the deep ache in his chest from causing him to collapse onto his knees and pray or beg or plead to whatever is listening to make this stop. Christ, he had been so happy three days ago. 

He pulls the string on the table lamp behind the couch, the click of it turning off echoes in the empty room. Dean lets out a shaky breath and forcefully reminds himself that this is the right thing to do. The good thing. What he should have done all along. 

He steps quickly towards the next lamp in the living room, hand brushing the couch and the ache in him doubles. This has to count as murder, he thinks hysterically. This can't be happening. This is the nightmare part of it all. This isn't  _ fair _ . This just. It's not supposed to end like this. 

Immediately after he shuts off the final lamp, the room is filled with soft light. Dean whips around to find the source, only to see Cas standing there with a heartbreakingly soft smile on his face. 

"I read somewhere that it's bad luck to say goodbye in the dark," Cas says. He's trying to comfort Dean. He's been doing it for the past two hours, his hand had been lingering in the kitchen while ignoring the few tears that Dean couldn't hide. It's ridiculous, like Dean is the one that's about to--

Dean has to clear his throat before talking. "No, you didn't." 

Cas tilts his head slightly, enough that Dean is worried about losing it and breaking down and throwing out the whole plan no matter how selfish the decision may be. Without realizing he had moved closer to his--Cas, moved closer to Cas. 

"No," Cas amends almost fondly. "Perhaps not. Perhaps…" he trails off, and it's for the first time that Dean can clearly see the anguish behind the carefully crafted facade. Cas blinks, coming back to himself as quickly as he left. "Perhaps I just wanted to see you clearly."

Two weeks. They had gotten two weeks together before everything went to hell. 

(Dean had been driving through New Jersey of all places, some town he figured he'd forget the name of before he had even left. The only reason he had bothered to get checked into a pay-by-the-hour motel was the fact that he knew well enough that he was too old and achy to sleep in the backseat these days. Dean had chased what he had assumed was a Wraith over state lines. He remembered falling asleep and had woken up in a house smack dab in suburbia. The bed was soft and somebody had been next to him. 

It has been Cas, passed out and oblivious to the world. It had clicked into his head simply, this was his house and Cas was his fiancé. Dean had grabbed a job bar-tending about a year ago, and Cas gossiped like an old housewife while helping out at the community garden. 

It had been almost three years since they moved in. In love and happy and smiling. 

None of it was real. Dean had been trapped in his head by what he was really hunting--a Witch and Wraith couple who had the worst sense of humour. 

The Cas standing in front of him was nothing more than memories jammed into a shape. The laugh and the bead tilt and the calloused hands were an illusion Dean had built himself. 

The point stood, that at the end of the day, Dean had never gotten to say goodbye. He was never given time to formulate a response before Cas had--)

"And?" Dean asks before he can think about it. The gentle light caresses Cas's face, and he can't bring himself to look away. 

Cas smiles, the same one he gave before the Empty. "And there you are, Dean Winchester." 

The dam breaks. Dean says nothing, too busy choking back tears when he pulls Cas closer, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into Cas's neck. They don't deserve this. They've been through--

Cas has been through-- 

Hell, Dean has been through--

It never felt like a victory, not when Cas was dead without even a body to burn. Dean doesn't let go, he can't. Not again. Cas seems to share the sentiment, pulling Dean impossibly closer, whispering half-finished words, all overflowing with kindness. They could stay like this forever, happy and in love. For a moment Dean let himself follow that train of thought: the two of them pretending this never happened, going to bed, going to work, getting married, maybe raising kids, cooking, cleaning, domesticity, being safe and warm and happy enough to burst, growing old and tired, a peaceful death at the end of a well-lived life. 

It would never be them, Dean thinks. He didn't fall in love with Cas because of all of that shit. He fell in love with a Warrior of Heaven, with a sarcastic bastard, with somebody who pushed and pushed and made so many mistakes, but above all tried to do what's right. 

Once, Cas had said that Dean had given him a reason to doubt. For Dean, Cas had given him a reason to have faith. 

"We can't stay like this," Dean bites out after a few minutes of holding each other. It hurts worse than a bullet. Dean gives a final squeeze before letting go. He lets out a shuddering breath when they fully part. They stare at each other, silently. There are no sounds but their breathing, frantic and heavy.

Cas shifts, looking like he's about to say something but Dean beats him to it. Words that had been stuck in the back of his throat for a long time. 

"Cas..." he starts slowly, "Cas. I'm pretty sure it's my turn for the death-marked love confession, eh?" 

Cas makes a pained noise, not taking his eyes off of Dean. "I should have said it, Cas. I should have said something, all those years and I just...couldn't bring myself to. I know that I wasn't a good person, I wasn't good to you. There's never been an excuse for that. But you deserve to hear it, Cas." 

It's raining, Dean thinks belatedly. He hadn't heard when it started, but it must have been recently. 

"You...you are the pieces that live in me. You have been my deepest regret, and the only faith I ever had. Right now you are a body made of memories, all of the hope and sadness. I love you, Castiel. I love you to the point where it hurts, and I can't stop. I don't want it to stop, Cas. I love you." 

The wind outside picks up. The world he created is breaking into pieces and there is nothing to be done. It's over. He's clawing his way out when all he wants is to wrap himself in the comfort of his imagination. 

The house is shaking from the wind. Dean hears the sound of glass breaking, a window upstairs. This place always had too many for his liking. His chest is aching more than ever, his vision blurring from unshed tears. This isn't fair, or right, or okay. Cas is smiling at him, and it's that stupid deal all over again. 

"We have said goodbye before, Dean." Cas has to shout over the wind. He pulls Dean towards him again, placing a hand over where he once branded Dean's soul to the extent that it scarred his body. "It stands to reason that we'll say hello again." 

Dean doesn't hesitate, grabbing Cas by the same damn blue tie that he never stopped wearing and pressing their lips together softly. They fit together perfectly, almost like--

Dean wakes up with a gasp in some warehouse that looks like every other one he's ever been in. Barely in his line of sight is Sam on the left. It takes a second for him to realize he's standing, hands chained up above his head. He feels woozy and confused, all he wants to do is go home and drink a bottle of something until he sleeps peacefully. 

"--and figured it'd be better if we didn't move you. You've been gone almost two weeks, what the hell happened?" Sam is chattering away endlessly while he unlocks the chain around Dean's wrists. It goes in one ear and out the other, honestly, but it's always been their ritual. 

Without thinking, Dean reaches out for his brother. He pulls him into a crushing hug before his legs give out sending both of them crashing onto the floor. It takes a second for Dean to realize the broken sobs are coming from him, he sounds pathetic and weak but he  _ doesn't care _ . 

Sam is still talking but returns Dean's hold no less vigorously. Dean cries harder and harder, the noticed ache in his knees will hurt later, his chest will hurt for all the crying, his wrists are raw and will be wrapped at a different time. 

"I can't breathe," Dean says unwillingly. He feels numb and cold and he wants Cas's hands and soft words and soothing deep voice. 

He doesn't say anything else for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for ur time, feel free to yell at me in the comments


End file.
